Sent in by Wendy Image by Lin Pernille ♥ Photography via Flickr I can't say I am completely free. I can't bring myself to tell my family that I don't believe in God, although my husband knows and completely supports me. And I do believe in something, just not the God of the Christians. It's hard because my mother is so devout and it would tear her apart to know that I am doomed to hell because she really, truly believes that crap. I figure, it's just better to let her be in peace than break her heart. I live about 45 min away anyway so I don't see her all the time. But to go to the beginning, I grew up hardcore pentecostal. I think it was even worse because we went to a Hispanic church and most people were immigrants, and most of them were superstitious anyway. We weren't allowed to cut our hair, women couldn't wear pants or makeup, the man controlled the family and women had their place in the home. When I was really little it was fine, but as I got o...

Sent in by Wendy Image by Lin Pernille ♥ Photography via Flickr I can't say I am completely free. I can't bring myself to tell my family that I don't believe in God, although my husband knows and completely supports me. And I do believe in something, just not the God of the Christians. It's hard because my mother is so devout and it would tear her apart to know that I am doomed to hell because she really, truly believes that crap. I figure, it's just better to let her be in peace than break her heart. I live about 45 min away anyway so I don't see her all the time. But to go to the beginning, I grew up hardcore pentecostal. I think it was even worse because we went to a Hispanic church and most people were immigrants, and most of them were superstitious anyway. We weren't allowed to cut our hair, women couldn't wear pants or makeup, the man controlled the family and women had their place in the home. When I was really little it was fine, but as I got o...

Sent in by Ryan Image by Getty Images via Daylife I was raised as a "Non-Denominational Christian", which is a short-handed way of saying I was Southern Baptist ; my parents didn't want the stigma attached I guess. Some of my earliest memories were at a church. Some were fun memories (youth group trips)...some were terrible (vacation bible school, church camp, everything else). I always resented going to church. It was always boring and I almost always fell asleep or tried to read something other than my Bible. I would doodle sometimes. I never had a "passion" for church. I always just went along with everything and pretended to be happy or feel touched in some way. It was the thing to do. Eventually we (my immediate family) stopped going to church because everyone would gossip about my father's alcoholism. My mom got fed up with it and we stopped going to that particular church. It took several years before we tried other churches; each one was just as un...

Sent in by Ryan Image by Getty Images via Daylife I was raised as a "Non-Denominational Christian", which is a short-handed way of saying I was Southern Baptist ; my parents didn't want the stigma attached I guess. Some of my earliest memories were at a church. Some were fun memories (youth group trips)...some were terrible (vacation bible school, church camp, everything else). I always resented going to church. It was always boring and I almost always fell asleep or tried to read something other than my Bible. I would doodle sometimes. I never had a "passion" for church. I always just went along with everything and pretended to be happy or feel touched in some way. It was the thing to do. Eventually we (my immediate family) stopped going to church because everyone would gossip about my father's alcoholism. My mom got fed up with it and we stopped going to that particular church. It took several years before we tried other churches; each one was just as un...

Sent in by Alison Image by Gabriela Camerotti via Flickr My departure from Christianity occurred 11 years ago. This is a letter I recently wrote to filmmaker Brian Flemming after watching the film The God Who Wasn't There .: Brian, For the first time in my life, someone has reflected back to me the kind of kind of utter confusion, anxiety, stress, and often panic that I experienced being raised in a fundamentalist, evangelical Christian community. I, too, was a Christian ▬ one who earnestly and perpetually tried to come to terms with "reality" inside of the "absolute truth" of Christian teachings. The constant presence of obvious inconsistency without logical explanation, however, which seemed rarely to weigh as significantly on the hearts of Christians around me as on me, was never overcome by that "peace that passes all understanding" that Faith was taught to provide. The beginning of the end of my identity as a Christian was at the age of 27, when...

Sent in by Alison Image by Gabriela Camerotti via Flickr My departure from Christianity occurred 11 years ago. This is a letter I recently wrote to filmmaker Brian Flemming after watching the film The God Who Wasn't There .: Brian, For the first time in my life, someone has reflected back to me the kind of kind of utter confusion, anxiety, stress, and often panic that I experienced being raised in a fundamentalist, evangelical Christian community. I, too, was a Christian ▬ one who earnestly and perpetually tried to come to terms with "reality" inside of the "absolute truth" of Christian teachings. The constant presence of obvious inconsistency without logical explanation, however, which seemed rarely to weigh as significantly on the hearts of Christians around me as on me, was never overcome by that "peace that passes all understanding" that Faith was taught to provide. The beginning of the end of my identity as a Christian was at the age of 27, when...

Sent in by Joseph Image via Wikipedia I came across this site while search for the origins of Easter . I guess that was my sunrise service . I read Nicole's testimonial dated April 6, 2009 and was inspired to share mine. (Thanks for the forum). I was raised Catholic and went to Catholic schools for 12 years. I went to mass every Sunday and in college, when I worked on Sundays, I attended Saturday evening mass. When I was 14, I saw the virgin Mary hovering over me one night. Funny that a good Catholic boy would have a vision of the Virgin Mary . So yeah, I was pretty much brainwashed. In my late 20's I was in a bad marriage and wanted out. But I was dealing with all the baggage and implications that come with being a good Catholic. I went for a long walk down a busy main street and prayed for guidance. I cried, just wanting an answer. I got it. On the way home, I saw ambulances and mangled cars. When I got home, the neighbor informed me that a teenage girl was kill...

Sent in by Joseph Image via Wikipedia I came across this site while search for the origins of Easter . I guess that was my sunrise service . I read Nicole's testimonial dated April 6, 2009 and was inspired to share mine. (Thanks for the forum). I was raised Catholic and went to Catholic schools for 12 years. I went to mass every Sunday and in college, when I worked on Sundays, I attended Saturday evening mass. When I was 14, I saw the virgin Mary hovering over me one night. Funny that a good Catholic boy would have a vision of the Virgin Mary . So yeah, I was pretty much brainwashed. In my late 20's I was in a bad marriage and wanted out. But I was dealing with all the baggage and implications that come with being a good Catholic. I went for a long walk down a busy main street and prayed for guidance. I cried, just wanting an answer. I got it. On the way home, I saw ambulances and mangled cars. When I got home, the neighbor informed me that a teenage girl was kill...

Sent in by Larry Image by Himalayan Trails via Flickr I was born into a devoutly Christian family in the Midwest 51 years ago. I can't honestly say I ever felt accepted in my family, or in any extended church "family". I always felt out of place, unwelcome. I won't say that I didn't believe, but I think I always had some reservations. My father for some reason had National Geographic magazines in the house, and I soaked them in. The info contained in them probably led to my first serious doubts about what I was being taught in Sunday school . I had lots of trouble accepting the six-day creation story, and a six- to eleven-thousand-year-old earth. Also, the problem of evil in the world, perfectly fine people supposedly going to hell, inconsistencies in "God's word", and many things similar to what many of you have stated before, all caused me much doubt. But, I didn't leave Christianity or the church for another three decades. In fact, I married...

Sent in by Larry Image by Himalayan Trails via Flickr I was born into a devoutly Christian family in the Midwest 51 years ago. I can't honestly say I ever felt accepted in my family, or in any extended church "family". I always felt out of place, unwelcome. I won't say that I didn't believe, but I think I always had some reservations. My father for some reason had National Geographic magazines in the house, and I soaked them in. The info contained in them probably led to my first serious doubts about what I was being taught in Sunday school . I had lots of trouble accepting the six-day creation story, and a six- to eleven-thousand-year-old earth. Also, the problem of evil in the world, perfectly fine people supposedly going to hell, inconsistencies in "God's word", and many things similar to what many of you have stated before, all caused me much doubt. But, I didn't leave Christianity or the church for another three decades. In fact, I married...

Sent in by Shannon Image by » Zitona « [09] via Flickr I want to take a moment and tell you how truly grateful and inspired I am from the very personal stories shared on this site.When I first left religion I was extremely depressed and lonely. I had considered suicide seriously for the first time in my life. I was in one of the darkest hours of my life ,but, ironically I had faith. After finding this and other similar sites I was warmed and found peace in your different stories. Mostly I realized I wasn't alone. I wasn't crazy and I wasn't being illogical. Today I am 37 years old and I am happy in a way that I never imagined possible. It is not my physical birthday but instead my "spiritual" birthday. And I am deeply happy because I have seized control of my life and stepped into the light. I was raised in the Mormon church by my well meaning and generally good parents. From my earliest memory I have spent an average of 25 - 40 hours a month in church in one for...

Sent in by Shannon Image by » Zitona « [09] via Flickr I want to take a moment and tell you how truly grateful and inspired I am from the very personal stories shared on this site.When I first left religion I was extremely depressed and lonely. I had considered suicide seriously for the first time in my life. I was in one of the darkest hours of my life ,but, ironically I had faith. After finding this and other similar sites I was warmed and found peace in your different stories. Mostly I realized I wasn't alone. I wasn't crazy and I wasn't being illogical. Today I am 37 years old and I am happy in a way that I never imagined possible. It is not my physical birthday but instead my "spiritual" birthday. And I am deeply happy because I have seized control of my life and stepped into the light. I was raised in the Mormon church by my well meaning and generally good parents. From my earliest memory I have spent an average of 25 - 40 hours a month in church in one for...

Sent in by Grace Image by fionnaigh via Flickr My life never started off on a religious fore-front. My parents were both heavily into drugs when I was very young. They divorced when I was two or three. I went to live with my grandma. My grandma grew up in a Catholic household. Her father was Catholic and her mother was Mormon. Growing up, I had a lot of questions for my grandma about reality. She wasn’t affiliated with the church because she always thought that all of the “politics” and corruption in the church was never good. She taught me to be a free-thinker. She believes in choice. That you make your own destiny, and I believe the same. She is extremely tolerant of other religions (just as long as you don’t go knocking on her door). Growing up, I asked her what “religion” we were, and she told me “You can believe in anything you want, or you can believe in nothing at all. It’s your life, and you need to find out what you think for yourself.” I did just that. ...

Sent in by Grace Image by fionnaigh via Flickr My life never started off on a religious fore-front. My parents were both heavily into drugs when I was very young. They divorced when I was two or three. I went to live with my grandma. My grandma grew up in a Catholic household. Her father was Catholic and her mother was Mormon. Growing up, I had a lot of questions for my grandma about reality. She wasn’t affiliated with the church because she always thought that all of the “politics” and corruption in the church was never good. She taught me to be a free-thinker. She believes in choice. That you make your own destiny, and I believe the same. She is extremely tolerant of other religions (just as long as you don’t go knocking on her door). Growing up, I asked her what “religion” we were, and she told me “You can believe in anything you want, or you can believe in nothing at all. It’s your life, and you need to find out what you think for yourself.” I did just that. ...

Sent in by Free Wanderer Image via Wikipedia It’s funny to me how, not so long ago, I was standing up in front of the church congregation, giving my testimony of how Jesus had saved me, and now, here I am, giving my testimony of how I’ve come to completely reject that salvation. It’s also amusing to me, that if you had told me back then, that I would one day divorce God and His Church, and deny Jesus, I would have laughed sweetly, nodded my head, and had pity on your soul, because it was definitely not going to heaven when you died. I was pretty much raised in down-home, Bible Belt, Baptist Churches for most of my childhood. My mom, who’s parents had been missionaries to Costa Rica and who had instilled their by-the- King James Bible beliefs into her brain, made sure to take me and my sister to church every Sunday and Wednesday night, like a good Christian mother should. My dad, who’s mom was a good ol’ Baptist racist, had stopped going to church when I was just a baby, but he still...